


The Question of the Hour

by notenoughtogivebread



Series: Klaine Advent 2015 [15]
Category: Glee
Genre: Episode: 6x08, F/F, M/M, Season/Series 06, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7418662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughtogivebread/pseuds/notenoughtogivebread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Klaine Advent 2015 prompt: Question (Blaine waits for Kurt’s answer to Britt and Santana; takes place in the tack room during 6x08 A Wedding)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Question of the Hour

The question hung there in the air. Blaine wasn’t going to grab for it, he wasn’t. If he had learned anything over the year of living with Kurt, it was that he had been wrong to try to rush things with his proposal. Kurt had to come to decisions on his own, in his own time, or he would always just—not be fully on board. This—this was like a moment out of a fairy tale, but Blaine was done believing in fairy tales. So he just looked hopelessly back at Kurt. The words HAD to come from him first. 

Santana broke the spell. “Look, the longing gazes into each other’s eyes are all dramatic and shit, but this is my wedding day, and my wedding guests, and—you’ve got 10 minutes. C’mon, darling. I don’t mean you, Sue.” And she grabbed Brittany’s hand and shoved Sue out the door into what Blaine hoped was a clean stableyard. Brittany waved the fingers of her free hand at them, her blue eyes wide with anticipation. She still believed in fairy tales, that was for sure. 

The heavy wood door thumped shut, and he heard Santana actually pulling the leather latch across. They were as locked in as they’d been in Sue’s elevator. He stayed silent, biting his lip. He’d already said he loved Kurt, hell, he’d already laid himself bare for Kurt, laid on the ground and crawled to him for forgiveness. Didn’t keep him from ending up feeling like he didn’t measure up. He wasn’t going down that road again. 

Kurt’s eyes were big and pleading. “This is crazy. Isn’t it crazy?” 

He took a deep breath. “You keep saying that. WHAT is crazy—or, more, what do you think is CRAZIEST about this all? Besides the obvious—it’s Britt and Santana, and God, Sue. Of course it’s crazy.” He couldn’t help himself; he grasped Kurt’s two hands in his own again and held on tight. 

“You _know_ what’s crazy—that I’m tempted. Blaine, every sensible bone in my body says we have work to do, to rebuild our relationship, to make sure we don’t fall into the same patterns, make the same mistakes.” 

He squeezed Kurt’s hands. “That’s good advice, I think. Though we’ve already been trying, haven’t we?” 

“And we still hurt each other.” 

“So we wait. We tell the girls thanks, but no thanks, and we go out there and have fun and dance at their wedding.” He pulled Kurt close and started moving around the tack room in a waltz, the music only in his head, teasing, smiling up into his love’s conflicted frown. He wondered if Kurt could feel how hard his heart was pounding. 

Kurt gently disengaged himself, took Blaine’s hand, and pulled him down to sit on a bench along the wall. His smile was soft, his eyes grey and earnest. “OR. We do it. We start now. We both know that we want this, want marriage. We don’t have to wait. We can go back to New York as HUSBANDS. Or I could go with you somewhere else…” 

“I still want New York, babe.” 

“Good. That’s good. So we go back as married men. And then, if it gets hard…” 

“ _When_ it gets hard. Kurt, I haven’t beaten this depression, and—” 

“Okay. When. We won’t run. I won’t run away to hide behind my walls, and you won’t hide your pain to avoid more pain. Because we’re not playing at being husbands. We’re doing it this time. There’s no part of me that feels like this is a trial run. There’s just—you.” 

“Oh my God, you mean it.” He felt all the tension he’d been holding melt away. “Kurt!” There was nothing else to say, and he let the tears, when they came, fall. 

“So, is that a yes?” Kurt was bouncing next to him, one hand on Blaine’s thigh, the other brushing down his arm. Blaine recalled an earlier Kurt, bouncing just like this in a booth at Breadstix, so excited that his new boyfriend was going to prom with him. He never could say no to that face. He supposed he never would. 

When the latch was finally lifted, they came up out of their kiss like they were coming to the surface of a lake. Santana took one look at them, turned to Sue, and said, “Tell the band to play another song. And make it a long one. Looks like we have some grooms to dress.” And Brittany squealed in a joy that matched Blaine’s own.


End file.
